Jerome, A Poor Man eBook

Squire Merritt stared. “The smartest young
fellow in this town,” he said, with a kind of
crusty loyalty, “but when it comes to Lucina—­Lucina!”

“I’ve liked that boy, Eben, ever since
that night in Robinson’s store,” said
the Colonel, with a curious gravity.

“So have I,” returned the Squire, defiantly,
“and before that—­ever since his father
died. He was the bravest little rascal. He’s
a hero in his way. I was telling Lucina the other
day what he’d done. But when it comes to
his lifting his eyes to her, to her—­by the
Lord Harry, Jack, nobody shall have her, rich or poor,
good or bad. I don’t care if he’s
a prince, or an angel from heaven. Don’t
I know what men are? I’m going to keep
my angel of a child a while myself. I’ll
tell you one thing, sir, and that is, Lucina thinks
more to-day of her old father than any man living;
I’ll bet you a thousand she does!” Squire
Eben’s voice fairly broke with loving emotion
and indignation.

“Can’t take you up, Eben,” said
the Colonel, dryly; “I’d be too darned
sure to lose, and I couldn’t pay a dollar; but—­to-morrow’s
coming.”

Squire Eben Merritt stood looking at his friend, a
frown of jealous reverie on his open face. Suddenly,
with no warning, as if from a sudden uplifting of
the spirit, it cleared away. He laughed out his
great hearty laugh. “Well, by the Lord Harry,
Jack,” said he, “when the girl does lose
her heart, though I hope it won’t be for many
a day yet, if it’s to a good man that can take
care of her and fight for her when he’s gone,
her old father won’t stand in the way. Lucina
always did have what she wanted, and she always shall.”

Chapter XXVI

For three weeks after that Jerome never saw Lucina
at all. He avoided the sight of her in every
way in his power. He went to Dale and returned
after dark; he stayed away from meeting. He also
strove hard to drive, even the thought of her, from
his mind. He got out his algebra and Latin books
again; every minute during which he was not at work,
and even during his work, he tried to keep his mind
so full that Lucina’s image could not enter.
But sometimes he had a despairing feeling, that her
image was so incorporated with his very soul, that
he might as well strive to drive away a part of himself.

He had no longer any jealousy of Lawrence Prescott.
One day Lawrence had come to the shop when he was
at work, and asked to speak to him a moment outside.
He told him how matters stood between himself and
Elmira. “I like your sister,” Lawrence
had said, soberly and manfully. “I don’t
see my way clear to marrying her yet, and I told her
so. I want you to understand it and know just
what I mean. I’ve got my way to make first.
I don’t suppose—­I can count on much
encouragement from father in this. You know it’s
no disparagement to Elmira, Jerome. You know
father.”